Phantoms
by Hollow-Storm
Summary: The past is a haunting fate...but who's? His? Maybe...but he might need help.
1. Intrigue

Phantoms

Ch. 1 Intrigue

By: Kyron

Rain. It was raining again. Lately it always seemed to be raining. It never seemed to stop. Beads of water glided down the window pane, distorting the view of the outside world. No person would be outside on such a dreary night, no one in their right mind at any rate. It was pitch black, lightening gracing the sky with random sparks of light. It didn't matter though. No one would notice him if the sun was shining directly above him. He was a ghost, a phantom if you would. Sure, he existed and people would look his way but no one would actually _see_ him. He had physical form, not invisible by any means, but he had a way of not attracting attention. And that's how he liked it. It made him capable of moving through a city without trouble. He moved a lot, never staying in one place for more than a few weeks, maybe a couple of months at the max. There was always this strange sense of restlessness within him that kept him on the go. He couldn't explain it, just went along for the ride. He'd go wherever the restlessness lead him, one city and then the next until hopefully, he could stop. But for now, moving around was fine. Speaking of which...

An engine fired in a lonely alley, the low almost threatening growl from exhaust echoing off the wet brick. Headlights turned on as the vehicle began to move. He turned out of the alley and headed towards the highway, preparing to move along to the next city. He accelerated the engine, creating a near roar from the tailpipes as the vehicle sped up, tail lights growing distant.

Morning came and there was no rain. Once again, the forecaster had been wrong. Green eyes searched out the dirty window towards the sky for any chance of the wet weather but there wasn't a cloud in the sky. She sighed, shaking her head to clear it of sleep. Turning, she looked in the piece of broken mirror, examining her shoulder length brown hair. It used to be a large bathroom mirror that got busted in half. Quickly she pulled her comb through her hair. She tried to keep her hair a reasonable length, namely because the comb was so hard to deal with. It was tattered and missing teeth but it functioned. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and changed clothes. Her jeans were torn at the knees and were stained by grease and her black t-shirt was no better off. The girl then rolled up her worn sleeping bag, tucking it in the corner of the room. The room itself was really no bigger than a tiny walk-in closet. She grabbed her black ball cap and headed for the door, stepping into her worn shoes. "C'mon, Ram." she called. Obediently, a dog followed at her heels. It was a mutt of some sort, long nose, perky ears and bright eyes. It's colors were almost calico. The girl leaned against the large metal door and pushed, the iron hinges grunting at the motion. When it was open enough, she poked her head out. Once the coast was clear, she opened it further, letting the dog and herself out of the confined space and into a cross street alley. Garbage lined the walls of the adjacent buildings but the street itself was never used much. She pushed the door closed, wedging a small piece of paper in the door. Since there was no lock to speak of, the paper could tell her if someone tampered with the door. Satisfied with the door, she turned down the alley, heading towards one of the streets, the dog close on her heels.

They walked the streets, getting pushed and jumbled by the crowds but no one really noticed her. That was fine. Sometimes it was safer not to be noticed. She maneuvered her way down the street, ignoring the curses of people who might get too close and get a growl out of Ram. She turned this way and that, finally coming to her destination. The neighborhood was mostly Mexican. Some parts were worse than others, especially after dark but for now, she was okay. She knew many people in this neighborhood and got along with most of them. Up ahead, the sound of air ratchets and tools clinking sounded from an open garage front. She walked up to the corner of the door and looked in. Cars were on lifts, mechanics doing tweeking her and turning there. But there was one person she was really looking for and she found him arguing with one of his employees. The pair walked inside, slowly approaching the man. "No, no, no...how many times do I have to say it?? If you install that, you'll blow the motor...and I tell you chico...I'm not fixing it next time, eh?" he threatened. The employee raised his hands in defeat, walking away grumbling many curses in Spanish that weren't really for young years. The man watched him go, "Dumbass..." he said, turning around. "Hola, Mario." she said, a hint of a smile in her voice. "Nacoma! Chica...just who I wanted to see. How's it goin' Ram?" he said, talking to both. He pulled out a small dog treat and tossed it to the dog. Ram caught it mid air and took her prize to the corner to eat it, tail wagging. Mario motioned for Nacoma to follow him. "Listen chica, I got a couple of cars in here that need a few touches and I'm short handed...you showed up on a good day." he gave her a small piece of paper, outlining the jobs. She nodded and headed off to the cars, picking up a small toolbox on the way. "Lemme know if you need anything, okay?" he called. She waved a hand at him and he chuckled, heading for the office. Inside, a woman approached him. She was quite pretty, shoulder length black wavy hair and piercing eyes. "You know it's illegal for you to pay her cash under the table, right?" she asked. He snorted, "What should be illegal is for a girl her age to be homeless." he replied, looking out the window into the shop. Nacoma already had one car on a lift, working on the under belly of the beast. "I hear she's got a place on Main." the girl retorted. "No, she has a closet in the alley between Main and South. You got a shoe closet bigger than her whole world. And she shares it with a dog." The girl crossed her arms, "I still think you should let child services deal with her." she walked towards the desk. "I'll call them now for you." she said, picking up the receiver. Mario spun around and moved quickly for the desk, snatching the receiver from her and slamming it back down. "Tina, you're my sister and I do love you dearly...but I swear to you, turn that girl in for trying to make her way in life and I'll disown you." he threatened, glaring at her. She locked eyes with him for a moment, trying to see if he was bluffing. But she found his eyes hard...he meant it. "Okay...okay, Mario..."she started, backing away, "but if you get caught and ruined because of that girl, don't come crying to me, okay?" And with that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the office, grabbing her purse and heading down the street.

Several of hours later, Nacoma came into the office. "All done, Mario." she said, handing him the paper back. He looked over her notes, reading what she had found and done to the vehicles he'd assigned her. "Looks good, bonita. Here." he said, handing her a plain white envelope. "And before you go home, go to Mama's. She said she's got some stuff for you and Ram." he added. Nacoma nodded and looked around the office, "Where's Tina?" she asked, innocently. "She didn't feel right today. Don't worry 'bout her. Now hurry and get home. It'll be dark in a couple hours and you don't wanna get caught out here." he said, forcing a smile. "Okay...I'll be sure to stop by Mama's. And tell Tina I hope she feels better soon." she said, going out the door. Mario only nodded. Nacoma exited the garage with a whistle and was momentarily joined by Ram. She pushed the small envelope into her pocket and headed for the corner store. Looking up, she noticed that the sky had grown considerably darker. Looks like the weatherman might be right after all. She arrived at the corner stores lot, her eyes catching sight of a dark vehicle sitting on the corner. It seemed to call to her almost. She felt almost drawn to the vehicle. It was a black truck, she didn't recognize the manufacturer, but who ever had designed that truck had done so in the a brilliant fashion. She found herself wondering who it belonged to. "Hm." Nacoma entered the tiny store, Ram making herself a seat just outside the door. The store was filled with all sorts of items, from clothing to food and fruits. This was Mama's place. Mama was Mario's mother but everyone called her Mama. She was a very kind old woman that never turned anyone away unless they were trying to cause her trouble. She found the old woman sitting at the counter. "Hey, Mama." she greeted, smiling. The old woman looked at her, a smile gracing her face as well. "Hola, Nacoma. I'm glad you came in today." she replied. Nacoma nodded, "Mario said you wanted to see me and it has been a while since I've been in here." Mama reached behind the counter and pulled up a large brown paper bag. "Here...you take this. I've got treats for both you and Ram." she said. Nacoma reached for the envelope. "No. Your money is never good here¼you know that." the old woman said, raising her hand. "But it's Mario's money..." Nacoma retorted. "He gave it to you so it is yours. No." Mama said firmly, "Now you put that back in your pocket and hurry home. It will start raining soon and you're not in the best part of town for pretty young ladies, eh?" Nacoma sighed, placing the envelope back in her pocket. She picked up the bag, "Gracias, Mama." she said, heading for the door. She looked outside again and noticed that the black truck was gone. Turning, she asked, "Mama, do you know who's truck that was outside a few minutes ago?" The old woman looked up, "No, I didn't even realize there was a truck out there. Why?" Nacoma shook her head, "No reason, just curious. Bye, Mama." she said, quickly exiting the store, calling Ram on the way. The entire way home she wondered about the truck. There had been something, well, not normal about the vehicle. She almost hoped she would see it again, just to try to figure it out.

The rain started as soon as she reached her door. Checking the paper and finding it undisturbed and the way clear, she opened the door and quickly entered, closing it tightly behind her and Ram. She set about putting away all of the days items, placing the money Mario had given her in the plastic bag with several other bills. She figured she had about a thousand dollars saved up, give or take. It was good in case of an emergency with Ram or if she needed something she couldn't get from Mama. Carefully, she stuffed the baggy back into the small pocket on her sleeping bag. Next, she worked on the paper bag, finding crackers, cheese, water and fruit along with some cooked meat for her and some not so cooked for Ram. Happy at the prospect of meat for the night, she made their dinners. But even after her meal and she'd gone to bed for the night, she couldn't get her mind off the black vehicle...

She'd noticed him, he was sure she had. That was unusual. Even the woman who worked in that store he'd sat in front of for hours hadn't even looked his way. But that brown haired girl actually _saw_ him. And what was weird, he'd noticed her too. He'd spent most of his time surrounded by people in many cities and never noticed any single person that he would even enter into his mind, but he noticed her. He barely noticed her dog. The animal had simply looked at him as it sat at the doorway, awaiting its owner. It actually intrigued him so much that he was nearly frightened. The moment he noticed she wasn't looking and ignoring the look of the dog, he fired the engine, the muffler nearly silent, and gently glided away from the corner, blending into traffic like the ghost that he was. He turned around on another block and waited, for what, he wasn't sure. But he watched that corner, noticing the girl come out and look either direction, almost as if she'd lost something. Her dog simply looked up at her until she called a name and the pair left. 'Good' he thought. And once again, he glided away. But the usual since of restlessness wasn't there this time. There was a different feeling, one he couldn't place. It felt almost like he should stay and watch. Only he wasn't sure of what. Maybe that girl and her dog had something to do with it. Oh well, he figured. He'd gone with feelings before, might as well go along with this one. And so he stayed in the city...for now, until he could figure out this enigma that had him so intrigued, no matter what it was. And so he drove off, just as the rain began to fall.


	2. Connection

Phantoms

Ch. 2 Connection

By: Kyron

_Screaming. Pain. Fire. Death. Everything was surrounding everything else, melting it all into darkness. There was screaming. People were running in every direction, panic etched on their faces. Fear. That's all the body could feel was an undying fear. Nothing made sense, nothing posed to logic, everything was in chaos. Blood spattered the walls, burned flesh and singed clothing littered the ground. The sky was open above where no sky should have been. Steel and plaster lay tattered and twisted among the rubble. The sky cried, water pouring in atop the blazes, sending up a smoky haze of steam. A face. A kind face yet so terrified. A voice, speaking, but the words were jumbled. Only one thing stood out. "Get away! Run!" and then the sky was opened more, dropping building supplies on the face, silencing the voice. Terror gripped the body. Flee. Get away. Run! But something was wrong. Stuck. Couldn't move. Crying. But then hope. Freedom! Flee! _

_The air outside was cooler, running further from the fire. A glance back. A blinding flash…_

Nacoma sat straight up in her sleeping bag, her breathing ragged. Her eyes darted about, seeking the dwindling candle burning in a hurricane lamp. Sweat beaded from her forehead, gliding down her cheeks. She quickly looked at the small, dingy window. No rain. There was no rain, no fire…only her and Ram. The dog was simply looking at her, her head slightly cocked to one side. Nacoma breathed deep, moving her now plastered bangs away from her face and pulled her knees up. She laid her forehead against them and closed her eyes. That dream bothered her. She hadn't had it in years and didn't even know where the material that it contained came from. It didn't make sense, really. She didn't remember anything that happened in that dream from real past experience. She sighed again, glancing at the worn out watch, 4:45 am. She wasn't going to get any more sleep tonight. "Bloody hell." she said, getting up and preparing to leave. A few minutes later, she was out the door, Ram staying behind.

4:46 am. He didn't feel right. Things were coming back again, things he wasn't sure existed. He dreamed. He fought. But there was no escape. Something was wrong. He checked his location, noting the two bums standing around a garbage fire. The rain had stopped, the sky clear and the morning sun still a couple hours away. But there was something else, something eating at him that he couldn't place. It felt nearby. An engine sounded, the quiet hum of exhaust the only clue that something was there. Neither of the bums even glanced his direction as he left the narrow alley, headed for South and Main. He drove for several minutes, finally settling near an open alleyway. He could tell there were people in there. One person at least. He could recognize the quiet footsteps. Someone was down there. But there was something else, the shattering of glass. Curious, he moved forward and turned the nose of the truck slightly into the alley, headlights off. He could see people now. A girl…and two others. Another shatter of glass. One of the other two threw a bottle against the wall. "C'mere sugah…" one called, stumbling towards her. She backed away. The second man lunged haphazardly, and she dodged. She was scared, he could tell my the sound of her breathing, and yet she didn't scream for help. He could only wonder why as she dodged both men again.

"Whare ya goin, sweetie?" one of the men slurred, lunging again. She dodged, only to be caught by the other drunk. "Uh, oh…no wheres else for you to run…" he said, wrapping his arm around her throat. She was repulsed. He reeked of cheap liquor and booze and smelled like a public bathroom. She could even smell the vomit on his breath. "Let go of me you slimy bastard!" she said, thrusting an elbow into his gut. He doubled over, releasing her. She moved to escape only to be caught again by his buddy. "Oh, you's a lil bitch…I'm gunna teach you a lesson 'bout hurtin' my buddy." he hissed, throwing her against the wall. She tried to get away but his fist met her jaw and she slid down the wall. He grabbed the tail of her shirt and pulled, tearing the fabric around her stomach. His buddy got up to join him, holding her arms against the wall. Suddenly, both men stopped at a thunderous roar, lights beaming directly at them. Nacoma ventured a look, lightly cracking an eye open. Her face had already begun to swell and she felt the warm trickle of blood down her chin. She couldn't see anything but bright lights and heard nothing but a roar. Tires squealed, both men releasing her and beginning to run. She slid the rest of the way to the ground as a dark blur shot past her and then her world went black.

He was angry. He thought that he shouldn't care but he was already pissed. At first, he'd been curious as to what had brought him here…but then he heard the girl talk. It was the same girl from the store. That's when the anger started. It wasn't directed at anything in particular at first but moved to target each of the drunken men each time they managed to even lightly touch the girl. He couldn't stand it. He knew what they were planning to do to her and he refused to allow it. The engine screamed, exhaust howling. Tires smoked as the truck charged forward. Both men ran as fast as their drunken limbs would carry them, but he was faster. He caught up with them before they were even three quarters of the way out. He realized that people can sober up quite quickly when faced with danger, but unfortunately, they didn't sober up fast enough. Both men ran blindly out of the alley, the black truck stopping in the shadows. The truck silenced the muffler and backed a few feet into the alley. The men kept running, not noticing the two police cruisers headed their way. He watched, not nearly satisfied, as the police pulled their guns on the two raving men, locked them in cuffs and drove away. He growled and reversed the truck, pulling to a stop next to the girl.

It was defiantly the same brunette he'd seen the day before. The only difference now was the large bruise that was sure to form on her cheek. He growled again, but became silent when he noticed her coming to. The truck began to glide forward, muffler silent as she started to stir. He moved slowly, trying not to make any unnecessary sounds on his way off. A loud crunch sounded under the tires, echoing off the walls. He could feel it then, he could feel her looking at him. He continued to move slowly forward. "Hey! Wait!" she called, still sitting against the wall. The truck paused, brake lights glowing in the darkness of the alleys end. She was quiet for a few moments. He wondered if he should just continue on his way and ignore the girl. "Thanks." she said, her voice not much louder than her breathing. That was it. No questions, no interrogations, just a thanks. He found himself shocked and confused at the same time. The truck sat for a moment or two more before releasing the brakes and turning onto one of the streets. He attempted to monitor her from the road, watching the heat traces until he knew she was in her room with her dog, then, he sped up, heading for a different part of the city. The shock gradually wore off and a sense of pride came over him. 'You're welcome.' he thought, revving on the gas, sounding the muffler to the skies, daring for it to rain.


	3. Confrontation

Phantoms

Chapter 3 Confrontation

_God he was tired. He wanted to sleep. Why wouldn't they just let him rest!_

_He looked around, watching as though he weren't in the middle of this. There were people everywhere, each wearing a long white coat. Wires protruded from all fields of his vision, many attached to him. The people were all running about, yelling various things to one another and being answered in similar form. He didn't really hear what they were saying, he didn't really care. He was just tired and they wouldn't let him rest. He willed himself to slip, to fall into blissful sleep…_

_The sharp electric shock was not exactly what he'd planned. It jolted his being back to awareness with frightening speed. There was more surprise than pain, the shock being just enough to get his attention. He tried to find his voice, to tell them to leave him alone, but couldn't seem to find the connection. He paused; perplexed with the fact that it wasn't working seeing as he'd never had trouble with it before. Curious, he tried to focus on all of the activities around him. There was an insistent beeping that started soon after, just about the time he felt exhaustion hit him full force. More yelling; followed by more scurried movements. There was a name called…his? Someone else? Both? He wasn't sure anymore. _

_He was so tired now, barely able to keep his mind aware of anything. He was slipping again, welcoming the chance at rest…_

_Another jolt, this one stronger than the last, he ignored it. There was a third, again, stronger than the last, still it was ignored. The fourth did not react in the same manner. It was no stronger than the last but it did not merely shock and then leave. No, it stayed, persistent in its form. Grudgingly, he pulled himself back up again, his focus wavering. There was more yelling but it sounded different…it sounded angry, in pain. And very familiar. He tried to pull himself up further, wanting to figure out who the voice belonged to. _

_It was a female…she was yelling at one of the men in the white coats. He couldn't understand what she was saying only that she was thoroughly mad. Something beeped and the two stopped their screaming to look in the machine's direction. The electrical shock had stopped. The girl inhaled a sharp breath and disappeared from his view. He scanned, trying to find her, ignoring the strain that it put on his exhausted self…but suddenly, she was there, with him. He heard her talking, her tone inflicted with something that he couldn't place. Her words were meaningless, he couldn't understand them now, but her tone was soothing. He fought the dark state of rest to simply listen to the voice. All other things were lost and his attention became focused on that single sound. He never heard when the machines stopped their constant beeping, never saw the others in the white jackets stop running and begin to stare, and he didn't care._

He woke slowly, his mind confused with the images that had just gone through it. He didn't remember this per say, but he _remembered_ it at the same time. It didn't make any sense and it wasn't the first time this had happened. Reflexively, he scanned the area, noting nothing out of place. He was restless again, feeling the deep desire to move, to drive. There wasn't a second thought when the engine fired up, the transmission shifted and the tail lights disappeared out of the alleyway.

The daylight filtered through the dirty window of her little 'home'. Nacoma hastily readied herself for the day. She looked at her torn shirt in disdain. It was the only one she'd had left that was wearable. The shirt had to be worn anyway and she pulled it over her head. She grimaced as the material brushed against her bruised and swollen cheek. There was definitely going to be some explaining to Mario. Her mind toyed with the thought of going by Mama's for some ointment, and certainly a new shirt. She pulled the baggie of money out of her sleeping bag, stuffing it in her pocket and stood, giving herself a quick once over in the busted mirror. Her face looked like crap and the shirt was completely trashed. She shook her head, quickly pulling her hair into its standard pony tail and made for the door, Ram waiting inside for her return.

The streets were busy this morning. It was a Saturday and was to be expected but it still annoyed him to no end. That was something that always bothered him; he never liked to feel trapped in any way. Perhaps that's why he was constantly on the move from city to city. He scanned his maps, looking for a faster way to move. He didn't really have a planned destination in mind, just felt the urge to drive…anywhere. Having satisfactorily found an alternate route, the truck inched ahead until it came to yet another alley. He mused at that for a moment. This city seemed filled with these alleys, easy shortcuts throughout the city, but were usually deserted. The previous days activities resurfaced in his mind and he had an understanding on why. He turned down the alley and onto the next street. This one was not quite as busy as the last and made it easy for him to move. His path continued in such a manner, moving along on one street for a while before ducking into an alley and taking another route.

Nacoma walked through the crowded streets, trying to stick to the shadows of buildings to conceal her bruise. There were a lot of cops about and she didn't want to be asked a bunch of questions she wasn't sure how to answer. Oh sure, the drunken would-be rapists was the easy part but how to explain a massive black truck that appeared out of no where to save her butt? She shook her head at the thought and rounded the corner next to Mama's. Her eyes glanced at the curb, the one where she'd first seen the vehicle but no one was there now. A sigh escaped her as she entered Mama's store. She expected to hear Mama's ranting and raving once she got a good look at Nacoma's face but what she didn't expect was to find Mama on the floor, bleeding. Mama's eyes stared lifelessly at a nearby rack of potato chips. She held fast, her breath caught in her throat, her limbs frozen and shaking. That was when she heard it, the noises coming from the back office. Nacoma tried to shake herself out of the vision before her, tried to get her limbs moving. She had to find help, call the police, something! Her limbs refused to obey her, her eyes still locked on the prone woman at her feet. The noises got louder, voices could be heard and then someone emerged from the back office and looked directly at her. She saw the person, the mask that obscured the vision of their face. She saw the person's eyes widen with a sudden surprise at there being someone else in the store. Then she saw them reach for the gun and finally her body responded.

She bolted backwards and spun, running for the door and out into the streets. Nacoma ran as one possessed. She didn't look to see if she was being followed, only ran to get away from that terrible scene. Her path took her many directions, cutting through alleys and cross streets. She ran until her breathing came harsh and ragged before finally stopping next to a dumpster. There were tears that went unheeded down her face, the warm wetness doing nothing to quell the cold inside her. She felt like a coward, running away when Mama needed her help. She kept gasping, trying to regain her air. Her mind calculated how far she'd come before telling her that she'd run over a mile at full speed. Muscles burned and her head swum, the lack of oxygen pulling hard on both. Her face hurt and she could feel her rapid pulse in the bruise.

Finally, she regained enough air to begin moving again. She started to go see Mario. She had to tell him what she saw so Mama could be avenged. Nacoma began walking, sticking closer to the shadows than ever before until she reached Mario's Garage. She ran through the bays and opened Mario's door, forcefully closing it behind her. Mario stood quickly and crossed the distance. "Nacoma, chica…what are you doing? Are you okay?" he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking at her. "What happened to you?" She worked on calming her breathing again, ignoring the fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. "Mario…I saw 'em…" he huffed out. "Saw who?" he encouraged.

"They shot Mama…Mario, they shot her…" she managed.

Mario's face faltered. His eyes changed.

"What do you mean they shot Mama?" he asked.

"I went to Mama's this morning…she was on the floor…she's dead, Mario! Then the guy came out of the back office and he had a gun, and…"

Mario closed his eyes tightly. "Chica, I need you to tell me. Did you see the guy with the gun?"

She shook her head, "No, he was wearin' a mask. I did see a ring though…"

His eyes opened again. "What kind of ring?"

"I don't know. Flashy I guess. Shaped kinda funny, like a star."

"And this guy saw you?" he asked.

She merely nodded in response. Mario heaved out a shaky sigh. "Okay, here's what you need to do. Get out of town. Run as far away as you can."

"But Mama…" she started.

Mario got a firmer grasp on her shoulders. "I'll worry about that. Listen to me. If you listen to nothing else I say listen to this. Stay away from the Star, okay? That ring means bad business and I don't wanna see you hurt, okay chica? Promise me."

"I don't understand, Mario…"

"I know. Just promise me."

The look in his eyes was so intense she couldn't help but nod her head. Mario visibly relaxed and took a good look at her face and shirt. "Who did this to ya?" he half asked himself. "Drunks last night." She saw his face grow fierce again. "No, they didn't do nothing like that. They tried but someone helped me."

He seemed to take her story with some disbelief but said nothing else about it. Instead he pulled an extra first aid kit from his desk and a clean shirt from his locker. "Take this stuff, go get Ram and get outta here before they find you. And thank you for comin' to tell me about Mama, chica. Be careful, okay?" he asked. She nodded mutely, her mind realizing that this could very well be the last time she saw her friend. Without further thought she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely. "I'm sorry, Mario. I'll be careful." Quickly she disengaged the hug and walked out the office, intent on following Mario's advice no matter how confused and scared she was. As she rounded the block she saw Tina, Mario's sister, standing talking with a small group of people. There was a car there as well and the name on the side of the door made her freeze in her tracks. It said "Child Services". Tina was talking to child services? About who?

About that time, Tina turned and saw the brunette standing there watching. "There she is!" she exclaimed. This seemed to prompt the men into action and they started advancing towards Nacoma. Betrayal was a fierce feeling, especially when it's from someone you considered a friend. And betrayal was exactly what Nacoma felt right now. She took off running, again straining her tired muscles into action. This time though, she knew she was being followed, and closely. She pulled out every trick and shortcut she knew, just trying to stay ahead of her chasers. They were close now; she could hear their breathing just a few feet behind her. Her legs burned with effort, her breathing came in ragged gasps. Caution was thrown to the wind as a survival instinct took over her body. She crossed streets, unchecked traffic slamming on brakes to miss hitting her. She made it across long before the more cautious pursuers and half way through the next alley before they made it to the other side of the street. Tired legs carried her still but faltered at the edge of the next street, sending her sprawling into the lane.

Only one noise filled her ears then, the sound of screeching brakes. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable impact but it never came. Cautiously she opened her eyes, and was staring directly at a pitch black bumper of a truck. The exhaust grumbled noisily, the smell of burnt rubber mingling in with the diesel fumes. Her eyes widened. It was the same truck from yesterday! She swallowed, trying to dampen her dry throat and moved to say something when the shouts from the alley reminded her that she was being chased. Nervously she glanced at the alley mouth and stood, casting one more glance to the truck before bolting yet again down another alley. Not but a few seconds later, the men followed, none of which even paid a momentary glance at the vehicle. The truck moved then, tires peeling against the ground as it shot forward and turned another block down.

Nacoma was exhausted. She felt she would pass out if she didn't stop running. The men were still behind her as she rounded another corner, nearly colliding with a very solid body. The truck sat there, engine running idly. She stopped and gaped as the passenger door opened and a male voice called "Get in." Normally, she wouldn't do the whole getting into the car with strangers thing but given circumstances…

She quickly entered the truck, pulling the door closed as it pulled away from the curb.


End file.
